Rubber Band Theory
by Reige
Summary: Even if you try to stretch out the story, it's always gonna snap itself right back into place. Side-story to "CHAOTIC" along with a side of AU's and "What If's".
1. Deck the Halls with Dadmight

**A/N:** Hey guys, welcome to the very first chapter of "Rubber Band Theory". I wanted to post this chapter before Christmas, but I've been so busy with work and picking up gifts for my nieces and nephews, my brother and sisters, too, that I kind of been lagging behind on updating the "CHAOTIC" story. Anyway, I wanted to get this out because everyone needs a break from the angst of the main fic. Now take this fluff and be sure to get yourself a hot cup of cocoa/tea/whatever beverage you drink that keeps you warm, and enjoy a face full of Dadmight feels!

p.s.

I'm also gonna try a little experiment on third person POV (although, this whole thing seems to be mostly told through Toshinori's POV).

 _ **MERRY CHRISTMAS, YA'LL!**_

 _ **AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR~!**_

 **Disclaimer:** Boku no/My Hero Academia belongs to Kohei Horikoshi, my only claim is my own original character(s)!

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 **Christmas**

 **(Two Months before the U.A. Entrance Exams)**

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"Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, young man!"

Kuzan was in the middle of taking a sip from his water bottle when the number one hero of Japan cheerily bombarded him with an unexpected gift. Once the words registered, his tangerine eyes flickered downward to spot a colorfully wrapped present pointedly shoved in his direction. With its red, white, blue, and yellow tones printed upon the gift wrapping paper, it was no secret who it boldly paid homage to. There was even a bouncy-looking golden bow sporting twin antennas at the top of the rectangular-shaped gift.

Truthfully, this wouldn't have happened had no one told Toshinori about his successor's birthday.

He only discovered it a couple of days ago when he had been out on a walk through the shopping districts (he was careful not to call them patrols because he knew Shūzenji would find out and she'd give him an earful the next time she saw him). The daylight hours became shorter and the shopping plazas became increasingly busy as the holidays started to come closer.

Toshinori was barely stepping away from a window displaying vintage toys like trains and rocking horses when a voice called out to him. He slowed his step, unsure is he was mishearing things since it really was full of late Christmas shoppers, yet there came a second call of his name from the river of moving bodies. Coming to a halt, he started to look around the area.

Briefly, he wondered if he accidentally buffed up in his All Might. After all, there was no reason for anyone to approach him while he looked like some misplaced Halloween decoration. His thoughts banished when he spotted a waving arm which he saw belonged to a familiar-looking individual he met some time ago. They made their way through the crowd, eager to reach him.

"Hey there!" the nurse greeted him with a bright and cheery smile once she was close to his hearing range. "I don't know if you remember, but we met at the—"

"The hospital." Toshinori easily recalled the young catgirl who looked after his successor. He offered a small smile. "Nurse Jinchōge. Of course I remember you."

This rewarded him a grin.

"I've been wanting to meet you, but, well, you left the hospital before I had the chance to talk to you."

Toshinori blinked, puzzled by the girl's sudden interest in him. The confusion on his face must've been so obvious because the girl released a small huff of laughter, her mitted hand coming to rest over her hips.

"Oh c'mon. If you really know Kuzan, you'd know why everyone is so curious about you."

"Ah." Toshinori suddenly understood. "He's quite a sour wolf, isn't he?"

There was a pause.

The pro hero wondered if his little joke on their mutual friend's aloof attitude had somehow been seen as offensive. Before he could back track or offer any apologies, the girl amazingly seemed to glow from his words alone. It was there that he was struck with the realization that this meeting of theirs seemed to be more out of curiosity than out of politeness. Common ground established between the two of them, conversation began to flow more smoothly.

The whole thing felt oddly intimate to him.

"I don't know why," Jinchōge shook her head. "It's like even though his words should normally turn you away, his actions kind of pull you in further instead. Isn't that weird?"

"Not really." Toshinori said. "I met people like that when I was in America. They're absolutely vulgar, but they mean well."

Despite having spent the majority of his life growing up in Japan, the boy still acted in a way that utterly clashed with the standard norm. If not for the appearance he inherited from his father, a lot of people would've mistaken the young man for a foreigner. However, to be fair, the fault did not lie at Kuzan's feet for dismissing the culture and traditions, but rather on the people of said culture and traditions.

One time, the teen had given the older man a confused look when Toshinori tried to dismiss him early because of the upcoming festival that was about to roll around later in the evening. Kuzan left him gobsmacked when the boy explained to him that he didn't celebrate such things besides the occasional birthday and western holiday (and even those were rarer than a blue moon).

"Must be a gaijin thing." Jinchōge murmured out loud.

"He's his mother's son."

It was obvious since day one. After witnessing how physically affectionate Dr. Sengoku was of her son (who by no means denied her warm embrace and touch), it became clear to him that the mother was the dominant parent in the household. It explained a lot about his student, taking into account how Kuzan didn't become flushed with embarrassment from the casual touches when he was hugged or ruffled on the head. The kid got hugged (and kissed) on a daily basis that he didn't flinch from Toshinori's touch.

Even as All Might, the older man had to be careful with his touches, making sure not to last longer than a few seconds since it was seen as too intimate in Japan's standards. He was only able to get away with it due to his high popularity and the adoration of his fans because they knew he was fond of most things western.

But all in all, All Might _did_ have a limit.

Yet shockingly enough, Kuzan wasn't one to shy away or get flustered by close proximity. There was time when it was _Kuzan_ who initiated contact first; his shoulder gently brushing against Toshinori's side when they walked down the streets while bantering with each other, or when the kid's thigh knocked into his knee when he wanted his attention.

It rendered the Pro hero speechless when the boy didn't bat an eyelash at the small peck his mother gave to his cheek or forehead, said nothing about his personal space being invaded when his mother nuzzled the crown of his dark hair, nor did he try to pull away in embarrassment because his parent wanted to hold his scarred hands. His father Enzō was careful with the PDA, but even the detective wasn't able to hold himself back in showing his own physical affections by rubbing his hand at some obscured spot on the back of his son's neck.

This revaluation clashed against the image the boy constantly projected to others, making others assume he was this seemingly unapproachable character. It was both sad and horrible to find how a lot of people could dismiss someone because they made their judgement based on appearance alone, but he supposed that was the point of Kuzan's actions. It was the boy's defense mechanism, his armor, sword, and shield against the rest of the world whenever he walked outside.

Whatever, Toshinori thought, that was on them.

Besides, there was something joyful in getting to hear the kid grouch whenever the blond ruffled his head now and then. It only made the older man smile more when the boy did nothing to stop him.

Grete, who had been appropriately suspicious of the stranger wanting to see her son, was astonished to discover that Toshinori was the very same man who Kuzan met at the grocery store (which led to another terrifying confrontation where he was told for the nth time that coughing up blood wasn't suppose to be considered normal). It was only after a few conversations, along with observing her son's open and welcoming demeanor to his presence, that he was finally given the official stamp of approval. Enzō was still a bit leery of him, watching Toshinori carefully despite his wife and son assuring him that the older man meant no harm, but nobody could fault the father for wanting to look out for his family.

" _Brrr_! So cold~!" the nurse shuddered as she rubbed her shoulders. "I should've shopped earlier for the brat's present rather than wait until late in the afternoon."

"You poor thing," Toshinori chuckled. "What are you getting him? An ugly sweater?"

For all the shit and verbal abuse he got for wearing his golden pinstripe suit (given to him by Nedzu, might he add), it would be the perfect retaliation to receive something as equally atrocious in return. Feeling a little inspired now that it was in his mind, Toshinori wanted to find the tackiest Christmas-themed store he could find so that he would come upon a mountain of the gaudiest-looking sweaters to repel even the jolliest of holiday lovers.

The Pro hero was pulled out of his diabolical musings when Jinchōge gave him an odd look. It only lasted for a few seconds when realization seemed to morph around her features, her mouth shaped into a small "oh".

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

His question caused the catgirl to release a small exasperated sigh; the woman's slitted eyes glazed over, face pointed towards the distance where it almost appeared as if she was trying to astral project her disappointment to the absent individual. Toshinori wondered if the young catgirl truly had the powerful means to pull off such a thing. He was however glad that her formidable ire was not aimed towards his direction.

"It's a bit late to celebrate it because of how busy we are at the hospital, but..." the nurse turned to him. "Kuzan just turned fifteen."

Fast forward to the present (the stunned silence, the horror of coming up empty-handed to his student, the need to find the perfect gift—), Toshinori had called out his young companion to join him for a simple walk around the streets of the glittering city. Kuzan, thinking it was another simple evening of spending some quality time with the Pro hero after a long day of work/school, thought nothing more as he obediently gathered his warm clothes and followed Toshinori out the door.

With a wave to the doctor who watched them go, the pair headed out to the quiet but illuminated streets.

It was when they paused outside of a convenience store so Kuzan could buy himself a water bottle (because he forgot his back at home) that Toshinori sprung his surprise birthday present towards the unsuspecting teenager.

And yet, the boy did not take the gift from his hands.

Slowly, Toshinori's bright smile began to wilt as the silence started to stretch on.

"Ah... I'm—" _Sorry_?

The boy blinked, his eyes coming back to focus like camera lenses adjusting to the image.

"Who told you about my birthday?" Kuzan wondered out loud.

Suddenly, the boy was looking at him, his gaze intense enough to burn a hole through the hero's forehead if he had the power to do so.

"Did you pull some high authority shit where you summon someone's personal files at the snap of your fingers and nobody would question you about it?"

How was he asking him with such a straight face?!

"Wai— _What_?!" Toshinori immediately sputtered. "I did no such thing! And of course people would question me if I did something like that!"

"That sounded a lot like an admission to me, you stalker."

The Pro hero was hit was a strong urge to bash the kid's face with his own present still sitting in Toshinori's hands, but the older man stopped himself from following through with the act when he remembered that physical attacks did absolutely nothing to the little mouthy brat. Stupid rubber quirk. Instead, he settled on giving the youth a baleful look. After a few seconds of giving each other the stink eye, Kuzan's attention fell back to the present still waiting in the older man's hands. A small frown made its way to the boy's face.

"I didn't get you a present."

"Do you watch the holiday channels by chance? Lots of people like to send their gifts to Might Tower, and as much as I appreciate it, I mostly send the majority of the presents to charity and other people just so they could have something special."

"Like playing Secret Santa?"

"Something like that." Toshinori nodded. "I wish you told me about your birthday. I'm sorry I was so busy with work that I didn't think to ask."

Kuzan answered him with a nonchalant shrug.

"Heroes are the busiest during this time because people become greater targets for carrying money on them when they go shopping for presents. How can anyone be selfish in demanding your attention on them? You're just doing your job, man."

The way he worded it, it sounded like the boy was used to explaining why he shouldn't be upset when someone put their job before their personal lives. Toshinori was then reminded of nurse Jinchōge's word, the hospital being incredibly busy because of drunk drivers heading home after Christmas parties, mugged victims who were taken by surprise by the shadowy predators waiting to strike, and other ice related accidents. Dr. Sengoku had to have been busy, working hours each day during the holidays. And there was of course Enzō and the robust hero Fat Gum to consider (honestly, discovering that Fat Gum was related to the Sengoku's was a bit of a shocker, but the blond could understand why everyone wanted to keep the news under wraps).

"You can always make a resolution on New Years." Toshinori suggested while bringing up the present again. "Resolutions are suppose to be like promises, so do that and stick to it. I like it when somebody makes a promise and keeps it."

"That's so corny," Kuzan shook his head. "Of course you would say that. You're fucking All Might."

The older man only shrugged.

Kuzan could go ahead and call it corny, but there was something about a person making a declaration of intent then following through with their commitment that truly ignited inspiration in the Pro hero. Many years ago, back when he was just a kid around his successor's age, Toshinori made a promise to not only himself but his teacher, along with everyone else, that he would become the symbol to pave the way towards an era of peace.

Nothing was perfect, there was still so much to fix, but they all had done their best to make their society as it was now. Life was harsh yet the older man was still able to see people smiling as they went about their day.

He was broken out of his musings when he felt the weight in his arms disappear. He frantically thought for a moment that it had slipped out of his hands, but looking down he merely found it was just Kuzan picking up the wrapped present. With great care, the teen peeled away the wrap from the seal areas, slowly undoing the work of the gift wrapper who Toshinori hired (because he was shit at wrapping presents).

The kid paused when he saw the bold logo staring back at him.

"You got me Nike shoes?"

The older man gave a pointed look down between them, towards the teen's current footwear.

"It's all I ever see you wear. You do like these, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Kuzan opened the box to inspect the shoes. "My grandma sometimes will send some over from Denmark, along with some money to put into my allowance."

Normally, it was around this time when children as old as Kuzan needed to go out and get a small time job so they could learn the ropes of responsibility. It would be a few years until they became full-grown adults, and they needed to learn how to manage themselves while earning their keep before moving out of their family homes to pursue their own path in adult life... but who would be willing to hire Aksel Gunnarsen's grandchild?

It was thanks to his grandmother, parents, and cousin that the kid was allowed to have little things without being cheated off of his money by cruel store owners.

Only eating food when it was homemade or bought by trustworthy people, shopping at crap stores, dodging heavily-populated areas, skipping out national holidays, oblivious to cultural customs and traditions, socially awkward when not confronted by aggressive individuals, and now facing possibilities of homelessness because no one wanted to hire him?

There was a migraine beginning to form at the fore front of his head.

"Alright." Kuzan spoke up as he closed the box. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Say, All Might? Do you have somewhere to be on New Years?"

There was an upcoming gala he was invited to attend as All Might.

Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Hawks, Miruko, and several other top heroes would be going to rub elbows with several high key donors that wanted to chat and meet their heroes up close and personal. It was also a party where Toshinori took opportunity to slowly ease the wealthy men and women into donating their money for the companies that needed help in keeping their programs running. He was sure the other heroes were doing exactly the same, Miruko giving tight smiles as she laughed until the end of the night where she would rip off her dress and hop on off into the night.

Yet what the boy was offering wasn't some big, fancy party taking place inside a rented ritzy hotel, no expensive champagne or tiny plates of barely edible snacks to chew on, no forced conversations or fake laughter.

What was waiting for the Pro hero was an open house full of warmth, a kitchen that smelled of heavenly grounded coffee and assorted cream to make the dark cup blossom into a caramel brown, various dishes that he could safely consume, and insults thrown around the table to get reactions from the other person.

"I don't think there's anywhere else I'd rather be, young man."

Relief bloomed in Kuzan's eyes, and Toshinori felt something in his chest clench from the sight.

In all the time he's known the dark-haired boy, he'd never seen Kuzan actually smile.

There was the cruel twist of his lips when he was in the midst of mocking and taunting someone into submission, the disturbing grins that showed his teeth like a dog would bare it's snarling fangs, and the occasional mad cackle that was anything but happy and joyful—yet no gentle curve at the corner of his lips that spoke of honest content.

It was all in the eyes, the older man observed, they were the ones that spoke the most about Kuzan. They danced a little when he told a corny joke, were full of mirth when Toshinori told a really one, dulled a little as if detaching himself from reality, burned brightly when he was enraged, and tried to blink away the glimmer when sorrow overtook him.

One day, Toshinori thought to himself, he was going to get Kuzan to smile for real.

"Let's get outta here," the boy shook his shoulder to shake off the chills settling into his bones. "Standing still for so long will turn us into a pair of frozen popsicles."

"Did you know that All Might-themed popsicles are more popular during this season? It's weird."

"Not really. A bunch of girls purposefully get their tongues frozen from wanting to lick your juicy face."

" _What_?! No way, you're making that up!"

"No, it's true. One time when I passing by a college campus, I saw these college girls doing it."

"... Oh my goodness."

"It was kinda hot to watch."

"Stop. Please stop."

"With their tongues stuck to the—"

" _BE QUIET_!"


	2. Smell (Part I)

**A/N:** Hey there guys, I know it's been awhile but not only has my job kept me away from updating the chapters but I've finally been struck with the *dun DUN _DUNN_ -!* slowly falling into a new fandom syndrome! It's effects have left me bedridden, searching for fics in the new place, my God I'm losing it people!

 _Ahem_!

I'm happy that the first chapter garnered a lot of happiness. Although I'm pretty sure anything Dadmight material will generate so much happiness from the fans, so that's a plus considering all you ever get from the main story is depressing stuff. New year, new chapters, am I right? Anyway, I just want to announce something because there's a few reviews that are asking for something that I am not willing to give out just yet until the right time.

Any of you who are asking for stories where Izuku lives or Kuzan chooses to follow the path of a villain, you'll need to wait until after I conclude the Kamino Ward arc because it's going to be an arc that explains certain things I'm not ready to reveal yet. I know, it sucks ass, I'm just as eager as you guys to get a story out with Izuku and just how dangerous Kuzan can be when he's pushed, but until then, that stuff will be left alone for now

So back to the main focus here! Here's another chapter, a part one of two because I want to get this out for everyone to have a good laugh because I know we all need a good laugh in these trying times we live in! Instead of Dadmight, get a face full... *drum rolls*

Class 1-A shenanigans!

I promised a reader of mine that I would do this for him once this story was up for reading, and I kept my promise to him. I hope you're reading this pal because this chapter is dedicated to you! _ENJOY_!

 **Disclaimer:** Boku no/My Hero Academia belongs to Kohei Horikoshi, my only claim is my own original character(s)!

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 **What does everyone smell like?**

 **(as pondered by _redskin122004_ )**

 **Part I**

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Class period was over at the current moment, there was still five to six minutes left when another teacher would arrive to take over the class. It was during this little open window of freedom that a small group gathered around Kuzan's desk. And currently, the owner sitting behind the desk was eyeing the group like they had grown extra heads from their necks. More specifically, he was staring at the equally intense golden irises surrounded in darkness.

"What?"

Ashido, the bubbly pinkette beside the invisible girl, crowded herself further into Kuzan's personal space while sporting a disturbingly happy look. "You said plenty of times that you can smell people—"

"Like a bloodhound." Mineta chimed in.

"—so we're all kind of wondering," Ashido gestured to the others joining her on their (stupid) quest for knowledge. "What do we smell like to you?"

Again, the dark-haired boy was giving them a look that said he believed they were off their medications or something. With Ashido leading the mini inquisition, he seriously wondered if maybe she really is some alien chick camouflaging herself to blend in with the rest of the populace so she could secretly gather information to feed to her evil overlord spaceship.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"You can, can't you?" Kaminari persisted, pushing himself forward to lean on the other boy's desk beside Ashido. "Your heightened senses are the real deal, aren't they?"

"Of course they're the real deal, you goddamn _pokémon_." Kuzan rolled his eyes at the blond while leaning further backwards into his rolling chair, his arms crossing over his chest in an almost defensive manner. "There's no bullshitting when it comes to my Sentinel quirk."

"Alright, jeez, sorry I questioned your oh so awesome capabilities." Kaminari sarcastically drawled while raising his hands in surrender.

"So what's the problem?" Uraraka asked from behind her own desk while watching the mob harass the tangerine-eyed boy. She was just as curious as everyone else on how their own scent was perceived by the tall teen.

"Normal people usually take offense to being told that they smell like _something_." Kuzan explained.

"When has that ever stopped you from offending someone?" Jirō deadpanned.

"... Touché."

"Oh c'mon, Sen-chan!" Ashido pleaded, her fingers lacing together while pouting at the blank-faced boy who merely raised a single brow at her pathetic display. "Please, please, please tell me! I won't ever ask anything weird from you again!"

"I seriously doubt that."

" _PLEASE_ ~!"

"What's going on here?" Iida demanded as he briskly made his way towards them after cleaning the board from the last teacher's messy scrawling.

"I'm being harassed. Help."

"Stop blowing it out of proportion!" Ashido huffed before turning to the class rep. "All we wanted was to know is how Sen-chan here can describe our individual scents, that's all!"

"Oh, then I apologize for disrupting this group study of our classmate's expertise in scenting. Please carry on!"

Because Iida had been facing away the others, he was oblivious to the betrayed look the dark-haired boy was currently giving to the back of his head. Like a bunch of creatures telepathically linked into a single hive mind, they simultaneously drew their eyes back to the boy still seated behind his desk. Knowing that there was no way out of this situation until the day ended (and there was no guarantee that Ashido and her minions would forget about this the next time Kuzan showed his face to class), the tall boy released an exhausted exhale.

"Fine, fine. Just don't hit me if you don't like the answer."

"Oh! Oh! I want you to try me!" Uraraka practically leapt from her seat to join the others.

"No fair, we came to Sen-chan first!" Ashido quickly crushed the doe-eyed girl's eagerness like a stomping foot on an ant hill.

Seeing the brunette slump in her seat with a sad pout on her usually bright face, and still feeling irked at the harassment he had faced until he succumbed to the request of the mob hovering over him like a cloud of smog, Kuzan gave the pinkette a dark look and said, "And just for calling me that dumbass nickname after I told you to quit it, Uraraka gets to go first."

The pink girl howled in outrage.

Ignoring the tantrum beside his desk, Kuzan turned to his doe-eyed classmate. "You smell like green tea, but I can also smell machines on you."

Amusingly, the brunette tried to take a whiff of her own clothes but then quickly gave up on the endeavor after realizing she didn't possess the hypersensitive keen senses available to achieve recognizing odors in the air, let alone her own smell (unless she was sweating heavily after a long day of training). Still, the information shared by her grumpy classmate made her smile in delight.

She liked drinking green tea, it was her favorite beverage, so it tickled her insides that her enjoyment in consuming the tea resulted in it imprinting on her person, creating a unique identification that Kuzan could recognize her with. The machines made sense as well considering her family's business in construction.

Turning away from the smiling brunette, Kuzan faced the pink menace who was now visibly vibrating in excitement to hear what he had to say about her own smell.

"You smell like eggs."

That bit of news left the pinkette—along with half the class—flabbergasted.

"What? That's it?!" the pink girl's shoulders wilted in disappointment. "That sounds boring."

"I think it smells nice. Delicious actually. Makes me hungry thinking about a plate full of scrambled eggs mixed in with some diced up ham."

In the small corner of his mouth, a drop of drool glistened there. Kuzan's mind lingered around the dish, his thoughts on it so strong that he could almost smell it like a phantom limb from the memory alone. He wished school would be over for the day quickly so he could run along home and replicate what he saw in his mind's eye. Meanwhile, the pinkette girl was giving the drooling teen a thumbs down while sticking her tongue out at him.

" _Boring_ ~!"

Feeling personally affronted at having his mouth-watering daydream rudely disrupted, Kuzan gave the girl an evil look.

"Whenever you use your quirk, your scent starts to turn rotten."

"Rotten?" Ashido blinked at him.

Iida, who was listening intently along with everyone else, perked up a bit. "I believe what Sengoku is referring to is your acid quirk, Ashido. Your usage of the power changes the chemicals in your body, including your odor, and therefore it is liken to hydrogen sulfide. I am often told that the closest description of the smell is rotten eggs and..."

Iida's voice trailed off because the other description of hydrogen sulfide was too vulgar to say out loud in polite company. However, due to the various visits to the doctors during her childhood when her quirk began to manifest, Ashido was exposed at an early age of learning some of the big words thrown around to get a better understanding on how her quirk functioned. Despite her lack of enthusiasm when it came to studying and homework, the pinkette was well versed in subjects like chemistry and a bit of biology.

And so she understood the unfinished sentence that Iida dared not utter in everyone else's presence.

But it was from this revelation that a rush of horror slammed into her like a speeding truck gone out of control.

Before she could stop herself, Ashido released a bone-chilling howl. Everyone in class jumped, all eyes drawn to the girl who melted to the floor on her knees, her expression morphed into agony as she bellowed to the heavens with tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I SMELL LIKE FART!"

Those nearby gave the mortified girl a wide berth as she continued to howl towards the ceiling while spilling her never-ending fountain of tears; several of the kids tried to offer the poor girl some words of comfort, but it did nothing to soften the painful blow the girl got from finding out that her quirk smelled like somebody breaking wind. Back at his desk, Kuzan whipped his heads towards the gobsmacked Iida who helplessly chopped at the air as a way to express his distress.

"Thanks a lot, you four-eyed encyclopedia! If I get in trouble for this, I'm dragging you down with me!"

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to offend her with my words!"

Kuzan could only crumple back into his seat, releasing a small tired groan in frustration. When the teacher rolled up to the class, they were greeted with the sight of a distraught Ashido who continued to lament her woes throughout the next period.

 **.x.**

"Hey, Sengoku bro, what do I smell like?"

Kuzan froze mid-bite from his lunch, eyes focusing on the speaker: Kirishima.

"Not this shit again..." the dark-haired boy muttered irritably, his appetite evaporating almost instantly.

"Hey, c'mon! You've got everyone curious about what they smell like now," the redhead persisted, scooting his chair closer to the taller boy. "Besides, Ashido got over it."

"Yeah," Jirō—how the fuck did Kuzan not notice her sitting nearby?—snorted as she ate her rice. "Right after she vowed to go buy fruity scented body wash."

Beside Kuzan, Iida looked as though he was experiencing some sort of heart attack by the way he clutched onto the front of his uniform so dramatically; everyone around the table supposed it was Iida's way of expressing his deep regret for inadvertently humiliating poor Ashido. Sero offered his condolences by patting the karate boy on the shoulder, hoping it was enough to lift the other's spirits.

"I told her she only smells rotten when she's really upset, otherwise she smells like breakfast most of the time given her perky attitude." Kuzan stated to the others.

Unfortunately, because he was a dumbass who didn't watch his words carefully in a table full of idiotic juveniles, he was totally unprepared by the ambush that struck him when he was at his most vulnerable. Kaminari and Mineta, the duo that occupied the farthest end of the lunch table, shot out of their seats. Kuzan nearly swallowed his food wrong from the sudden move, but his shock quickly shifted to wariness when he took in their shit-eating grins.

"Does that mean you wanna _eat_ her, Sengoku?"

The exclamation from the two boys caused the dark-haired teen to inhale sharply, but this time his food really did go down the wrong tube. It resulted in a messy cough and a crushed aluminium can he had in his possession, spreading more chaos across the lunch table. Uraraka and Yaoyorozu edged away to save themselves (and their uniforms) while Iida and Kirishima quickly sprung into action to clean the mess.

Once his airways were cleared, Kuzan whirled on the two snickering fools still rejoicing in catching the usually shrewd boy unawares. "You little fucking morons! I'm gonna mop the floor with your faces in the next period!"

Even with the imminent threat of getting their asses handed to them in the upcoming basic hero training after lunch period was over, Kaminari and Mineta continued their dangerous game of poking the already agitated tiger's tail. Knowing now that his dirty looks weren't enough to intimidate the laughing pair into submission (ever since the incident in the USJ facility, majority of the class didn't react to Kuzan's snarling dog demeanor), the tall boy could only quietly seethe in rage from his place. Eager for a distraction, Kuzan's eyes wandered back to the redhead still sitting in front of him from over the table.

Remembering Kirishima's earlier question, the vindictive teen glanced over at the idiots then decided to humor his curious classmate.

"Wanna know what Mineta smells like?"

At the mention of his name, along with the humiliating memory of the scene that took place earlier in their classroom, Mineta's good cheer abruptly ceased to exist. Kuzan could see from his spot how the midget's dark eyes glazed over, the boy's imagination going wild from whatever horrible words could come spewing out of the tall boy. A quick glance around the table told the dark-haired teen that his classmates were intrigued (morbidly so, considering who was the new target of embarrassment). The sphere-headed boy began to pale, cold sweat beginning to pour down his face as if he was imagining a giant guillotine about to come down and slice off his head the moment Kuzan opened his mouth.

"Alright, I'll bite." Jirō broke the silence, albeit with as much reluctance as someone dared to pet a venomous snake. "Tell us, O glorious bloodhound."

Feeling too drunk on the power to react at the small jab to his pride thrown at him, Kuzan gave Mineta a menacing smile before revealing what everyone wanted to hear.

"Kool-Aid."

Everyone sat still for a moment.

"Like artificial Kool-Aid grape juice."

The suspense broke and everyone started to murmur how disappointing that was to hear, some of them even going so far as to give Kuzan a look for hyping up the reveal only to be handed with something mundane, but Kuzan's eyes remained deadlocked on the midget sitting at the end of the lunch table. At first, the short boy looked apprehensive, but as the chatter continued and the atmosphere continued only serenely, Mineta started to unwind. His tense muscles uncoiled and his worried brows wiped away the scrunch above the bridge of his nose.

The midget released a small sigh of relief.

The nightmare was over.

 _'Bitch, he thought.'_

Kuzan opened his mouth and uttered one last word to the unsuspecting students.

" **#%*$**."

Every motion and noise at the lunch table stopped. In the breadth of a second, the word didn't quite register to the others at first, but upon diving deep inside their inner library to search quickly for the term that was spoken out loud, they immediately identified the word for something beyond vulgar than a student who happened to smell like flatulence. When it finally registered to everyone what was said, when the strings became connected to the dots, that pause in the time sequence they all experienced fast forwarded itself again and the table exploded.

The girls who were once calm and benevolent over their bentō gagged and scrunched their faces in disgust while trying to edge farther away from Mineta's spot. The boys on the other hand were red in the face, secondhand embarrassment for being familiar about what goes on behind locked doors when there was only them and a computer screen to guide them further along the kinky side of the web because reality was too obscured.

As everything went downhill, Kuzan calmly watched the proceedings while finishing the meal his ever awesome mom packed for him (it was köttbullar with steamy noodles and mouth-watering pasta sauce). He faded further into the background while listening to the girls give off shrieks of anger, watching the chaos unfold like how the Joker madly cackled as the city of Gotham fell apart at the seams due to the madness he helped usher along.

Mineta Minoru ceased to function as a human being throughout the rest of the school day. He prayed that his mind would hibernate deep inside until it would awaken a hundred years later after his classmates died and nobody knew who the fuck he was, therefore giving him a second opportunity to live the rest of his life without carrying extra baggage that would forever haunt his footsteps.

 **.x.**

"You smell like pumpkins."

"I occasionally consume pumpkin pie when the mood hits. It's especially popular on my birthdays."

"Do you also like pumpkin spiced latte?"

"My parents are strict in their order for me not to enter any Starbucks establishments. They say it corrupts people."

Well, Tokoyami wasn't wrong.

Their short conversation drew a few raised eyebrows from the others. It was mostly because Tokoyami; the bird-headed boy cautiously approached Kuzan because of the questions that lingered on his mind as of late (seriously, was Class 1-A full of drama queens or was Kuzan just that dead inside?), but once Tokoyami's curiosity had been sated, the two of them ended their exchanged and went their separate ways without a hint of awkwardness.

Their current teacher (Cementoss) had excused himself momentarily because someone outside called for his attention. It probably had to do with some update or another on class schedules because of the brief lockdown the school went through (the Pro heroes scoping the entire campus for any other signs or clues of infiltration). It allowed everyone a short reprieve from classwork and an open window of mingling, thus a few others taking the chance to ask Kuzan about their personal odor.

Kirishima had almost collapsed in aghast horror when he was told that he smelled like a gym, only to be reassured that there was a huge difference between gym smell and locker room smell (which didn't help matters _at all_ ).

Ojiro was the next person to be informed that he smelled like a bamboo forest. The martial artist told a short story how most of his life was spent hanging around a dojo that was established some ways out of the town he lived in. It wasn't disturbed by the city, so it became a place of calm and quiet. The teacher there had a bamboo garden, so the scent must've stuck to Ojiro's person when he would go out to train.

The next victim to approach was Kaminari himself. The fool was no longer sporting a confident or goody smile, instead there was an air of trepidation that made Kuzan think about those poor contestants on the Fear Factor shows. Men and women doing crazy shit yet looked seconds away from shitting their pants.

"I swear, this is like a gamble when it comes to you. I can't decide if you're being an asshole or just brutally honest."

"Yes." Kuzan deadpanned. His ambiguous response only made the blond's eye twitch.

"Alright, whatever! I'll take my chances!" the blond inhaled sharply as he prepared himself for the worst when he opened his mouth and asked the dreaded question, "What do I smell like?"

"Like ozone."

Before Kaminari could break out in celebration of being one of the few to draw out the lucky number of this intense lottery (becoming another additional statistic in the classroom who wasn't burdened with an offensive odor), he stopped himself when he spotted a catatonic Mineta sitting in the corner of his vision. The midget was gazing out through the window, eyes trained towards the distance yet seemingly staring into a dark void only he could see. The blond still remembered the reaction everyone had back in the cafeteria, how at first everything seemed fine for Mineta... until Kuzan condemned him with a single word.

The thought of undergoing such a similar fate quickly sobered him up.

"Is that all...?" the blond hesitantly asked.

"Yep."

 _'Oh thank God...'_

"It almost smells like Asui." Kuzan added.

"Call me Tsu," the aforementioned girl corrected her classmate. "I smell like ozone, too?"

"Not quite." Kuzan observed his fingers. "You're more like rainfall."

"Aren't those two the same?" Kaminari scrunched his brows in confusion.

"Ozone is something you smell when you feel the air about to charge up because of the incoming thunderstorm, but petrichor is when it's actually raining." Kuzan explained as he picked at the dirt from underneath his nails. "Personally speaking, I think you guys smell the nicest out of everyone else here."

Asui and Kaminari blinked, surprised by his admission.

Something he clearly hadn't meant to say out loud because suddenly the tall boy went still as stone when he realized what came spewing out of his stupid mouth. His stillness then morphed into something akin to horror. Ever since the USJ incident, Kuzan noticed the change in attitude rippling across his classmates, the way they no longer regarded him with an air of coldness. The other kids began to approach him, joining him at the cafeteria when he followed Uraraka and Iida. It unsettled the tall boy.

Now, because of this, he was pretty certain his reputation as the biggest asshole in school had just gone down the drain.

Kaminari surged out of his seat, surprising some of the kids closest to him. The blond twisted around until he was facing the rest of his classmates, a huge grin plastered across his face as he smugly pointed at them, declaring out loud for all to hear,

"I totally smell better than of you guys!" the maniac laughed out loud, further showcasing his insanity. "You losers don't stand a chance against fresh ozone!"

"Oh, shut up!" Kirishima barked, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"Asui's on equal footing with you, so don't even gloat!" Ojiro scowled.

While everyone started to argue back and forth, some of them even turning their attention on poor Kuzan who was trying to disappear underneath his desk, Asui released a small "kero" and smiled at her classmates' antics.


	3. The Valentine Affair

**A/N:** This is pretty much an AU considering that U.A. began school in April and therefore Class 1-A had no opportunity nor chance to celebrate the holiday together, but let's pretend for the sake of entertainment that they're all were attending school during the merry month of February, yes? Anyway, this is also going to be a short story because this shit literally came out of nowhere! I was in the middle of browsing some Dollar General store when I came upon _that_ aisle, the one where they dedicate holidays on it even though it's like a month too early to try that!

Anyway, I see the red, pink, white aisle and thought, "what if Kuzan pulled some stupid Valentine bullshit with his class?" and _boom_! Story time was a go! Enjoy and have a wonderful Valentines Day! Even if you're single, celebrate anyway because that only means you get to have all the chocolate treats for yourself, so _hah_!

Can be read as shippy or not! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** Boku no/My Hero Academia belongs to Kohei Horikoshi, my only claim is my own original character(s)!

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 **Love Like You**

 **(An odd Valentine Story)**

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 **UO:** **I'm making chocolate!**

Kuzan stared at the text message for a long moment.

He checked again to see if someone accidentally texted the wrong number; sure enough, it was no accident.

Uraraka really sent him that text.

Apparently, Valentine was still a thing.

His past experience with the holiday dated back decades ago when he was living through his first lifetime. As a little kid, he had ran around the house looking for a show box no one would miss, wanting to create a decorative masterpiece to bring to class the next day to show off to his friends and schoolmates before receiving a bunch of Valentine cards and candies. He forgot how excited he had been, pestering his mother when she helped him carefully cut difficult pieces to glue on the side of the cardboard shoe box (all the while his father warned him to clean up after himself because they weren't his maids). Kuzan could vaguely remember one of his oldest friends turning their shoe box into a tank which put everyone else's to shame.

Fun times.

But then the holiday took a whole new turn when everyone started to go through their embarrassing stages of puberty.

The popular kids went all out with their gift-giving, making no secret about their intentions in wooing that special someone.

Kuzan had seen numerous occasions where lots of guys displayed their affections by offering their girlfriends customized mugs full of Hershey Kisses candy, alongside a teddy bear with a batch of roses stitched to their fluffy chests. To make the deal extra sweeter, there was the promise of a nice dinner waiting for them in the later hours of the evening. Meanwhile, the girls would go out of their way to buy expensive brands on shampoos and cologne (whether it was because she liked the scent or because she was trying to hint at something to her man, Kuzan would never know).

Not only did the popular kids waste away their money on dinner dates and chocolates, but they all showed up to school dressed to the freaking nines! The guys looked slick as hell with their obviously fresh attires, and their girlfriends appeared as though they've walked straight out of a fashion magazine. Stylish haircuts for the boys and unblemished makeup for the ladies: a true match in the holiday of romance. A lot of people in school thought it was a forever thing when they celebrated it, but honestly it was more about making the best of a relationship before they moved along with their life once they realized it was just hormones driving them love crazy.

Behind the scenes from a secluded corner, him and his kind would watch the whole affair from afar with envy and want brimming in their eyes. Valentine used to be a fun holiday to celebrate as a child, but as you got older, it suddenly became this pressured and difficult time where you were expected to have at least been romantic with someone by the time you reached the age of sixteen.

The boy from his last lifetime was nowhere near stylish or beautiful.

Nowadays, that didn't matter anymore.

When you piss off an entire country, the last thing people think about regarding Kuzan is love. So just like that, Valentine ended up being pushed into the back burner of his mind. In fact, the term Valentine hadn't existed in his vocabulary—until now.

" _Darling_ ~! Dinner!"

After he settled himself down at the dinner table with a plate full of classic spaghetti and meatballs, his thoughts wandered back to Uraraka's text message. He didn't know why, but it continued to bother him as he ate. What was she even trying to accomplish in telling him what she planned on doing? Was the girl giving him a heads up? Was she asking for a second opinion of her choices?

... Was she trying to goad Kuzan into joining her in the spirit of the Valentine holiday?

Odin's beard, his classmate was confusing as hell.

"What's wrong?" he heard his dad ask when the older man noticed how spaced out he was. "You're scowling more than usual. You only do that when you step outside the house or whenever you're plotting your poor father's demise."

"Stop being such a drama queen." Kuzan scoffed. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"Yes. I can clearly see that with all the smoke coming out of your ears." Enzō rolled his eyes, but laughed out loud when he felt a shove against his shoulder which he happily returned.

"Boys." Grete gave them a warning look.

Eating until the spaghetti and meatballs pasta had disappeared, the teen dutifully took all the dirty dishes for a quick rinse in the sink (shoving them into the dishwasher machine for thorough scrubbing) and bid his parents goodnight. Inside the comfort of his room with the ever vigil All Might action figure situated on his nightstand, the teen continued his contemplation for some time.

It certainly had been awhile since he last thought of the holiday, only remembering the fun bits of his early childhood until he grew weary of it in his journey to adulthood. The heart-shaped decorations that varied from white, pink, and red, the chocolates of all kinds, and the gifts and cards and people that went with the throes of the day... These days, there wasn't a lot of things to be happy about, a fact he knew since coming to Japan.

It was probably the reason why Uraraka felt that they needed to do something important, to cheer up the kids who were feeling somewhat down-trodden over all that's happened to them. Teachers threatening to expel them, villains threatening their lives, and the public demanding they live up to their reputation as the miracle class... Everyone needed some room to breathe and the brunette was sure that the way to do it was to celebrate Valentine's together.

" _Ugh_."

God, this seriously felt like the plot of some old cliché Hallmark Channel movie. It was stupid, and he had no idea why Uraraka was telling him when she should be sharing this with Iida since he was the fucking class representative... but he supposed there was a reason why people loved feel good stories.

With a groan, Kuzan sat up and adjusted the time on his phone's alarm clock. Tomorrow morning was going to be a busy day and he had plenty of places to go before getting to school.

 **.x.**

"Wow~! Yaomomo, those looks so beautiful! Can I take a picture?"

Ochako paused from reaching inside her own bag to pull out the plastic wrapped treats she made back at her apartment. Curious over the hullabaloo happening a few rows down her own desk line, she spotted Ashido and Hagakure's floating uniform standing beside Yaoyorozu's desk. The two girls were holding their phones, taking pictures from every angle because one apparently wasn't good enough for them.

Upon closer inspection, the doe-eyed girl could see why the others were so drawn.

Yaoyorozu's chocolates were beautiful.

Each were perfectly square in shape (the size of brownies), all of them designed in unique ways that no chocolate was the same as the other, silver and pink edible sprinkles splashed across the surface, and tiny flakes of white chocolate dusted softly over them with great care that it barely looked designed by a high school girl.

They were so perfect.

Ochako glanced at the still hidden treats she had in her bag.

No matter what she did, how hard she tried, hers still came out choppy and clumsy. They stubbornly refused to take the shape she wanted them to despite her best attempts in following the instructions she saw from her laptop, and some of the stuffing she managed to get in peeked out in the corners of her deformed treats. What was worse was the smiley faces she painted on them, looking wonky and lazy that everyone could see there was no style or art in her decorations. Her chocolates were so random in appearance that it made her cringe a little on the inside.

It was clear that difference in skill between her and Yaoyorozu was so vast that she was pretty sure, had they both been in some cooking contest, the brunette would've gotten a boot out the kitchen from how hideous her confections came out.

"Oh sweet! Those are totally for me, right?" Kaminari slides up next to the tall girl's desk, making a show of grabbing them but ultimately backing away when the other girls gave him a sharp slap on the wrist.

"Get your stinky paws off those chocolates!"

The blond only laughed. He was joined by Kirishima and Sero.

"But seriously," Sero gestured the chocolates. "Who're they for?"

" _Oooh_ ~! Yaomomo's got an eye on someone already?" Hagakure teased the tall girl.

"Lucky bastard...!" Mineta growled from his spot, chewing angrily at the edge of his own desk until Iida snapped at him to cut it out.

"No, nothing like that." Yaoyorozu denied.

The tall girl's face was flushed red from the implications thrown around, but she was just as quick to compose herself. Ochako couldn't help but admire the other girl for being firm even when she felt embarrassed deep down.

"This is more like an olive branch. I... I've been unfair to this person since the beginning and... I really hope they'll accept this as both an apology and a sincere hope that we can be friends from now on."

There was no need for further explanation. It didn't take much guessing on who Yaoyorozu was specifically talking about. Most of them felt the burn of shame, wincing in memory of their poor behavior before death and danger forcibly ripped it right out of them.

" _Awww_..." Ashido cooed, eyes bright with admiration. "That's so sweet!"

"That's so manly!" Kirishima added. "You go, Yaoyorozu!"

Bakugō only graced them all with a tiny scoff.

"Don't judge her, McSplodey." Jirō snapped to the blond, coming to Yaoyorozu's defense.

"Shove it, Buddhist wannabe!"

" _What'd you say_?!"

While the small squabble broke out between the pair, Ochako sank down in her seat and stared at the bag which was still inside her bag. Last night, she made the foolish decision of messaging Sengoku about the chocolates she planned on making (chocolates she wanted to give him). She instantly regretted it, and she closed her phone in embarrassment because she was too afraid to see the answer. Her only hope was that the message was ambiguous enough that he wouldn't think much of it like he did with other things he deemed trivial.

To be honest, Ochako had no idea why she did that. Maybe some part of her wanted to avoid a repeat of the incident where she and the others almost "ambushed" Sengoku that he almost used his quirk on them (a lot of people were lucky that Bakugō had snapped the taller boy out of his trance to recognize they were friends, not villains).

The brunette sagged against her desk, feeling more and more foolish.

There was the sound of the classroom door sliding open.

The noise, chatter, and squabbling died down to silence.

Alarmed by the abrupt change in her classroom, Ochako's head snapped up to find everyone was staring at something. Following their gaze, she too felt her eyes widen to saucers when she realized who was standing at the door.

There was Sengoku.

... And he was carrying a pile of miniature baskets wrapped in plastic in his arms.

"Bro, what is that?!" Kirishima gawked at the tall boy.

"These are Valentine baskets." Sengoku deadpanned at the redhead. "I got them."

Ochako blinked. She didn't think it to be cruel, but she was pretty sure not a lot of people liked him...

As if reading her thoughts (along with several others if their confused faces were anything to go by), the dark-haired boy rolled his eyes while correcting himself. "Valentine stuff _I_ bought!"

This only made the pinch between everyone's brows grow.

"... but why...?" Satō asked, voicing what everyone was thinking of.

Instead of deigning them an answer, Sengoku proceeded to walk towards the nearest desk (which happened to be Aoyama's), stuck one hand inside the pile then yanked out a basket which looked to have been attacked by an exploding glitter bomb of sorts. The blue sparkling basket was placed down on the half-French boy's desk, and Sengoku barely reacted to the chirped "merci beaucoup". He then moved to the next desk where Ojiro sat. Ojiro's gift had a tiny bamboo plant stuck inside the basket, freshly brough from som plant store along with a few plant care packets (and a couple of nutritional bars for the martial artist himself because Ojiro wasn't one for sweets).

One-by-one, Sengoku moved down the front rows and the second and third, setting down unique basket gifts which were not only full of chocolate treats but other sorts of gifts that he assumed caught the interests of his classmates. Some got gift cards to shops or restaurants, others got coupons to take a few yen off their shopping price tags, and some like Yaoyorozu and Iida got things like tea bags and thick paperback books ("Fyodor Dostoyevsky" was all she could read from Iida's gift).

At one point, people watched in anticipation when they saw Sengoku stop at Bakugō's desk. It ended up being anticlimactic since all Sengoku did was dump the blond boy his make-shift gift and move along, doing the same with Todoroki who merely blinked at his. The brunette eyed the peppermint laced popcorn sitting inside Todoroki's basket with envy. She liked those!

And then there was Tokoyami's gift which consisted of a tall Starbucks cup that smelled quite heavenly even from where Ochako was sitting. She also spotted the thick slice of pumpkin pie in a plastic container next to the drink. Alongside the treat was a macabre-looking Valentines card depicting twin bleeding skulls pressing their foreheads together in the illusion of creating something that resembled a heart. It was kind of sweet... in a sort of creepy way.

Tokoyami seemed to appreciate it.

"Uraraka."

She blinked and noticed that Sengoku was in front of her desk, holding out her own little basket.

It was, Ochako noted, incredibly cute. There was a small variety of cake pops that made her mouth water, a tiny plush teddy bear with a heart stitched on its chest holding a big bar of fancy chocolate, and a plastic container of brownies that was littered with white and pink M&M's.

She was speechless.

In fact, now that she noticed, a lot of them were rendered speechless.

Gingerly, she took her pink basket.

"Th-thank you." Ochako murmured.

Sengoku's ever present scowl remained, but she liked to believe that he was just as effected by all this as they were. The boy turned to leave, to return to his own desk, but she reached out and snatched his wrist.

"Wait, wait, I," she fumbled, reaching inside her own bag after setting aside her little basket. "I got some chocolates for you."

Once out in the open, she couldn't put them back inside her bag. The others surely spotted her bag of treats, but her eyes remained resolutely on Sengoku who eyed the flimsy plastic bag with an unreadable look.

"Okay. Thanks."

And just like that, he plucked the bag out of her hands.

Like Atlas finally relieved of his heavy burden, she felt the anxiety she had all morning slip away from her shoulders. Mission accomplished!

"S-Sengoku!" Iida called out to his companion, waving his arms. "While I do appreciate this, I—!"

"If you don't like it, you can throw it away." Sengoku quietly told the bespectacled boy, his shoulders giving a tiny shrug. "Just thought it'd be nice, is all."

Iida froze.

Ochako gaped at the tall boy.

Sengoku spoke as if he was fully expecting them and everyone else to reject his offerings. His quiet tone sounded like a victim standing behind the caution tapes of a crime scene he continued to witness daily, watching helplessly as faceless villains maliciously broke, shattered, and tore apart what shred of kindness he left open for all to peer inside the home that was his heart. From the corner of her vision, Iida looked just as horrified of the implications as she was.

Spotting a few wide-eyed classmates scattered around the room, she was sure the feeling was mutual.

"Thank you, Sengoku! I'm flattered you went through the trouble of purchasing such thoughtful gifts for everyone!" Iida exclaimed, humbly bowing towards the other like his life depended on it. The others readily did the same, Kaminari and Ashido going so far as to give the tall boy a slap on the back or pat on the shoulder to express their joy.

Sengoku gave a small apathetic shrug of the shoulders which made the knife in Ochako's heart twist a little more painfully.

Again, without warning, the tall boy reached inside his backpack and pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers like a magician would a rabbit from a hat.

"I'll be back," was the only thing he said before walking back outside the hallway, bypassing a puzzled-looking Aizawa-sensei who had barely taken a step inside the bewildered classroom.

The ink-haired underground hero eyed Sengoku's retreating back then turned his attention to the rest of the students. They all were holding their customized Valentine gift baskets, blinking owlishly at the teacher. When no one offered up an explanation, Aizawa-sensei simply turned away from them and began to write a diagram on the blackboard. Class wouldn't start for another five minutes anyway.

"That was nice of him." Asui stated after awhile, breaking the ice.

Everyone murmured their agreements while curiously poking and prodding their gifts. Mineta eyed the purple Kool-Aid packets in his basket like they were mocking him. Ochako also noticed Yaoyorozu, the tall girl too distracted by her gift to offer Sengoku her own chocolates; she'll probably get the chance to do so between next period, but for now, Ochako was just happy she was able to present her Valentine chocolates first.

Meanwhile, Bakugō, who had been oddly stoic throughout the entire time, released another tiny scoff.

The brunette got the feeling that he knew something everyone else didn't.

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 **. Extra .**

Nemuri didn't notice right away until she was sitting behind her own desk work, wiggling the mouse of her computer and opening a folder full of papers that still needed grading. It was the bright color sitting on the corner of her vision that caught her attention first, and she glanced up to see what it was.

Flowers. Sunflowers to be exact, and dozens of them.

And they were sitting on All Might's desk with the man himself staring at them with an almost unreadable look.

She quickly thought back to All Might's brief history with the school staff, and none of them had expressed any romantic or sexual interest in him, especially since the school was to be treated as a professional setting (and especially since a wedge drove itself between them and the number one hero after Sengoku assaulted Aizawa). With no other suspect to pin her suspicions on, she could only come to one conclusion and felt a tad bit sorry for the older man. Yes, things were tense between them all, but she knew she could put aside her issues long enough to help a fellow co-worker in dire need.

Quietly, since this probably was horrible enough for him, she leaned closer and asked All Might, "Did Principal Nedzu already give you the talk on how to deal with students who express inappropriate interest in you, Yagi-san?"

Instead of the flush of embarrassment she was expecting, or the rush of stuttering word vomit pouring out of his mouth, or even some explosion of blood splatter ruining a perfectly good suit (thank god he finally got rid of the hideous yellow mustard monstrosity he seemed to favor wearing), the blond man blinked and looked at her in surprise as if he hadn't expected her to speak to him.

Nemuri sighed, knowing how hesitant he was to trust others due to their lackluster efforts in disciplining their own teachers for their poor behavior, but she decided to forget for a moment that there was a big ass elephant in the room and focused on helping the new guy out. All Might continued to eye a little longer, trying to get a read if she was being genuine or not, but he was probably satisfied because he pulled back and sighed while returning his eyes on the sunflowers atop his desk.

"My student, Sengoku..."

Oh boy, she thought to herself, that had to be _really_ awkward.

While it could be easily explained away to most of the kids who saw, there was no denying to everyone else in the faculty that there was something definitely going on between All Might and the Sengoku boy. She had very plausible suspicions that the principal and school nurse were involved, and it only grew to new heights when she noticed her good friend Shōta becoming scarce around the same time the two high ranking officials of the school disappeared to a secret meeting with All Might (and Sengoku). Yet, when asked or confronted on the matter, her friend would either brush them off or make up some lie that he was catching sleep in a new hidden spot he found because he got tired of Hizashi finding him.

"He doesn't quite know how Valentine is done in Japan."

From All Might's lack of reaction and concern, it was safe to say that this wasn't the case of a student harboring a major crush on his teacher (or idol, same difference). Besides, she was pretty sure All Might knew how to take care of himself against adoring fans that made unwanted advances, so there was that. Nemuri sat back in her seat and patiently waited for the other man to reveal what was on his mind. She was a pretty good listener when given the chance.

"He told me he woke up in the early hours of the morning so he could get a head start in running around between the shops, spending money on buying chocolates, coupons, gift cards, and other small gifts because a classmate of his said they were making chocolate."

Obviously a female classmate, Nemuri thought. Valentine was usually the stepping stone for most women and girls alike to either take the chance to express their love or make a statement that they wanted things to remain platonic. She watched as All Might rubbed at the temple of his forehead, looking like he was losing himself to an inner turmoil only he could resolve.

"He assumed that his classmate meant that they were making chocolates for everyone." All Might continued. "This is the first time anyone's openly invited him to join a celebration of sorts outside his family, so he must have... thought... that he needed to return the gesture."

"All the girls...?"

Kid had balls, she'll admit. Though, if she was being honest, this sounded more like something that Mineta kid would do.

All Might gravely shook his head. " _Every_. _One_."

Both him and Nemuri looked at the tiny sunflowers brightly staring back at them, all sweet and sunny to match the character of the man they were given to. If she remembered correctly, Valentine in the western parts of the world was the holiday where men _and_ women celebrated together, flowers and chocolates exchanged as casually or romantically. In which case, Nemuri was going to go with the safe bet that Sengoku meant no harm in gifting All Might the flowers.

Meanwhile, All Might seemed to shrink into himself.

"I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth," the man pathetically wheezed out. "H-he looked so accomplished at what he did! It was so sweet of him to share things with his class and me, I couldn't tell him that the girls are suppose to—!"

Unable to contain herself, Nemuri threw her head back and laughed out loud.


	4. Father (and Friend)

**A/N:** I know it's been awhile and I'm still working on Chapter 22 of the main story, but I wanted to present a belated Father's Day gift in honor of my papa, my two bro's who have hellspawns of their own (lol), and to all the guys that got their cabbage patch ankle-biters! Be sure to spend a great day with your dad, show him how much you love and appreciate him, and just enjoy some fluff content because life needs to let us have our moments.

Here's some Papa Sengoku content because I feel like that guy doesn't get enough attention! Plus, I wanted to create a little drama because I also feel that Enzō and Toshinori don't interact much in the main story! ENJOY!

 **HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, YA'LL!**

 **Disclaimer:** Boku no/My Hero Academia belongs to Kohei Horikoshi, my only claim is my own original character(s)!

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 **You're my Dad! (Boogie Woogie Woogie!)**

 **.**

* * *

Sengoku Enzō, engrossed with his coffee brewing that he quietly referred to as his addiction pot, nearly dropped his ceramic mug when the door to his office slammed open without warning. Composing himself after the brief fumble with the fragile cup, his attention quickly darted towards the entrance where he instantly identified the menace invading his personal space.

"Dad," came the lackluster greeting from his one and only semi-functional child. "I'm taking you out to eat."

The detective didn't respond at first, too busy internally cursing at his son for being such a goddamn drama queen. It was no wonder why he was getting so much gray hair, his own son was trying to drive him into an early grave—and that's when the words finally sank in.

God, it had been almost forever since Enzō and Grete had stepped inside a restaurant. Ever since the incident with the food poisoning, Kuzan made it clear that he was never again trust another establishment to cater to his needs whenever he was hungry. He relied solely on homemade meals, grocery shopping, and eating whatever take-out their dear cousin brought back with him whenever he happened to be in the city. The detective remembered hearing stories about chefs who would stoop to tampering with people's foods to get back at the patrons who slighted them, but to actually experience it? It was awful, and it still pained him to this day.

But now, out of freaking nowhere, his son was demanding they go out and eat! In _public_!

All the older man could do was stare at the boy like he was some sort of body-snatcher. "... Who are you?"

"You're turning down free food?" came the accusation.

The detective floundered a little. He wasn't one to turn down food, free or otherwise, but he still couldn't wrap around the idea that his kid was suggesting that they go out in the world and eat inside an actual food establishment. The decision was made for him when Kuzan stomped over and captured one of his wrists, hauling the older man out the door as if he was a child causing a tantrum by digging his heels into the floor out of defiance! The father was simply too bewildered to fight against the teen's hold, thus making the trip around the station short and simple without anyone to hinder them.

It was when they were about to reach the front entrance of the police station that the detective noticed a familiar-looking twig in a suit standing outside, waiting patiently while watching the flow of the crowds who bustled about in the central plaza.

It was that odd Yagi fellow.

"What's he doing here?" Enzō asked out loud.

"I invited him." Kuzan replied.

Yagi Toshinori was strange.

Ever since the beginning of their introduction, the detective felt incredibly suspicious of the blond man. Many years ago, he would've asked a question here and there to get a feel of the person before deeming them harmless, but as he grew older and saw the world for what it actually was (all ugly and malicious), he started to question everything rather than simply take it to face value like he might've done in the past. Everyone had ulterior motives, people always wanted something, and Enzō wanted to know what the hell was this man's angle in hanging around with his child!

And he would've confronted the stranger, dropping his polite act, and bluntly demanded what the fuck that man wanted.

Except he couldn't... because Kuzan trusted that man.

And everyone with half a brain knew Kuzan barely trusted _anybody_.

Being repeatedly ostracized and humiliated by adults looking to push their frustrations on someone, constantly tormented by other children who mimicked their older families and caretakers, trust became an unfamiliar concept to the poor boy. And as Kuzan grew older, it was practically ingrained in him to only rely on his parents (along with the handful of people Grete and Enzō trusted). There was a time when their son did have that bit of faith and companionship with two other stubborn children, but that too came to an abrupt (and tragic) end. The years following looked bleak and lonely from where the boy was standing, and every time someone tried to reach out, Kuzan only drifted further away from them.

Until an incident at a grocery store resulted in the most unlikeliest of friendships between a sickly man and a grim teenager.

Since then, Kuzan's apathetic lifestyle started to change little by little. The teen went out at random rather than returning home some hours before dinner where he would remain until the next morning like a robot set at repeat. He also started to talk to his parents again, sharing bits and pieces of his adventures where he scoped out streets and parks that weren't as populated as some local places of the city, finding a couple of hole-in-the-wall shops that carried interesting trinkets. And there was the return of his huge appetite. It dug into their pockets, but it was worth it to see their son stuffing his face instead of settling himself for one dish.

Exploring places, communicating with people, rebuilding a few bonds, visiting his parents' respective workplaces, griping about homework, offering snide commentary about Grete's horrendous soap operas, building his body back after years of stillness—all because he met a stranger inside a grocery store.

Everything Kuzan did, it was all thanks to Yagi Toshinori.

A tight and heavy something started to make itself home in Enzō's chest, aching and throbbing consistently whenever he saw Yagi and Kuzan together. It was like watching the world get bigger and wider, no longer revolving around himself, Grete, and their son. The tightness sometimes threatened to climb up his throat, waiting for the opportune moment where it would spill something vile and toxic, but each time the detective forcefully swallowed it back.

"Dad."

The detective blinked, remembering that he wasn't alone.

Kuzan was giving him an unreadable look.

"Uh," Enzō snapped his eyes forward. "Let's go eat!"

When they stepped outside, Yagi's head swiveled around as if he were a spooked barn owl. Upon seeing them, a smile bloomed over his thin lips and the blond proceeded to greet Enzō with a raspy, "Hello, detective!"

"Yagi-san," the dark-haired man politely nodded. "Hope Kuzan here hasn't taken up much of your busy schedule to join us."

"Oh no, it's fine." Yagi laughed. "Sengoku-kun was insistent."

Enzō noticed how tightly locked his jaw felt and quickly smoothed it out. He could almost feel his son's eyes digging into the back of his neck, silently observing him to piece together his odd scent and behavior. Quickly, he tried distracting everyone by bringing up the topic of food. Everybody loved food!

"So, where we headed to eat?" he asked while looking around the central plaza where there was sure to be packed restaurants and food courts. "You'll have to forgive me, but I've gotten a little rusty in knowing where to find the best places—"

Something soft but slightly constricting fell over the top of his head, causing him to stop and look up by reflex. Seeing the curved shape hovering over his forehead, he realized it was a baseball cap he was wearing. It was bright red with a bold stripe of equally bright yellow, and knowing exactly who Yagi's boss was, Enzō was pretty sure he was wearing an All Might cap. Once again, he was rendered speechless.

"Wear this, too."

Yagi handed him heavily tinted aviator sunglasses like it explained what was going on. Enzō just stared at it.

"What the hell...?"

He started to turn to his son for answers, but instead felt his jaw drop at the sight of Kuzan whipping out his own All Might themed baseball cap (complete with the bright blond antennas) from the back pocket of his pants. The teen shoved the merchandise on his head while slipping on his own pair of aviator glasses that completely obscured his recognizable eyes.

"Let's go, pops. We got reservations."

" _Reservations_? Reservations to what?!"

 **.x.**

They were going to eat in a restaurant. That's what he was told.

It's just nobody told him that they would dining in one of Tokyo's exclusive high-end restaurants that required a club membership (one which Yagi had, thanks to his popular boss). Enzō remembered escorting clients back when he was just a bodyguard, subtly looking around to admire the impeccable white table clothes, the shiny silverware, and sometimes trying to see how much the price of the food costed because his friends were convinced that it costed an apartment's monthly rent to eat here.

He was also pretty sure that there had been celebrities, high ranking heroes, and elite members of society who dined here like it was their personal Mom and Pop's diner.

Standing at the front desk where they waited to be attended to felt a little surreal, to be honest.

"Why here of all places?" he asked, feeling as though he was about to have a mini breakdown right there on the floor. "Do you even have the money to afford the food?!"

"You do remember who my grandmother is, right?" Kuzan looked at his father as if he was a doofus asking stupid questions he should know the answers to.

Enzō almost wanted to snap back, becoming increasingly irritated from all the sass he was getting. One more word out of the brat's mouth and he swore he was going to strangle the little shit, regardless that they'd get the boot out by security who would be on top of them in three seconds flat! Thankfully, the detective's murderous plotting was derailed when a petite waitress appeared. Even the staff members looked like they were high class, their immaculate uniforms and handsome/beautiful features further complimenting the establishment they worked at.

"Hello again, Mr. Yagi!" the young waitress addressed the lanky blond man with a smile on her face.

"Hello, Tamaki-san. It's good to see you." Yagi smiled in return. He then turned to Kuzan and Enzō who stood off from the side. "These are guests from America—"

 _'Hold up!'_ Enzō whipped his head towards Yagi in shock. _'Say what?!'_

Sensing movement from the side, the detective glanced over and saw it was Kuzan who was unzipping a portion of the sweater he was wearing to reveal a stark white T-shirt that sported the bold letters of the infamous "I _*heart*_ NYU" on his chest. Enzō felt like he was about to lose his shit.

 _'THIS WAS PREMEDITATED!'_

"C'mon pops," his son jostled him back to reality. "The nice lady here is gonna take us to a table."

Usually, when Kuzan spoke in English, other people would sometimes mistake him for someone who was born originally from America. Instead of something smooth and clear, the sound of his voice came off rough and tightly forced together through the lips. It was a dialect Enzō recognized though some passing in real life and on the television screen when he was watching a foreign show or movie: the accent of a New Yorker from one of the Burroughs of the city.

Wordlessly, he followed his son and Yagi as the waitress guided them to a nearby giant panoramic view of Tokyo. He was relieved that they were put at a table further away from the other guests situated around the place, the chatter quiet and calm unlike the trembling heartbeat thudding inside the detective. A few guests looked up, some of them dismissing their presence while others wrinkled their nose at his and Kuzan's ridiculous appearance (they were still wearing All Might caps and shades inside the building, further cementing the convincing lie that they were American tourists).

Once the waitress got them settled, she placed three menus before them.

"I'll come back in a few minutes when you're ready to order."

And with that, she disappeared towards the back where the staff and kitchen took place.

"You know," Kuzan spoke up after a minute when the coast was clear. "I'm starting to see why people like coming here."

Seeing the way the teen was longingly eyeing the door where the young waitress disappeared to, both Enzō and Yagi let out a snort of amusement. Just because his son couldn't stand people didn't mean he couldn't admire pretty women from afar (kid was apparently attracted to older women).

When he looked down at the menu, Enzō almost choked on his own spit at what he saw.

 _JESUS WEPT_!

Agnete's love for her grandson had better transcend into lots amount of money because holy shit this was expensive!

 **.x.**

Even after picking the cheapest order off the menu, it still made the detective fear for the impending check that was soon to follow after all was said and done, leaving a heavy dent in his bank account (because he seriously doubted that Kuzan was able to pay for this).

Though, to be fair, the food was something else. It was too bad they couldn't afford a second servings, Grete would've loved it. It was the kind of food that made people like Enzō think that he was dining on a king's meal. While he and Kuzan were scarfing down their meals, Yagi was poking around with his fruit salad which he took in small bites (Grete mentioned that the guy had gastrectomy which meant he wasn't allowed to eat a lot).

They talked—or rather, Kuzan did the most talking for the two men. He switched back and forth between Enzō and Yagi, and it was becoming clear that he was aware of the unsaid tension that loomed over them. The boy wanted to lessen the gap without stepping on anyone's shoes, and while the detective appreciated this, he still felt too awkward trying to engage with Yagi which left them both trailing off from each other.

This was becoming a disaster, the detective thought.

"Excuse me," the teen announced as he stood up from his chair. "I gotta go powder my nose."

And then he disappeared, leaving behind the two men to their own devices.

Quietly cursing the boy from the back of his mind, Enzō looked down at his plate which was mostly empty. He was tempted with the idea of not noticing the blond across from him, but it would only make his avoidance obvious and as much as he didn't like trouble, the detective wasn't one to cower from it. He had been a soldier once upon a time, and sometimes when you wanted to end a conflict, you needed to look it in the eye and deal with it.

"Do you like it, Sengoku-san?"

"Pretty good stuff." Enzō said. "You must be used to this, huh?"

Used to it that the staff members recognized him; some even going out of their way to say "hello", and the blond returned the gesture with a bright smile which made the detective bite harder into his meat. A lot of people here, he observed, liked Yagi.

"I don't really come to these places unless it's a business meeting or some formal gathering."

"Hm," the detective hummed. "Sometimes they turn these places to gala parties, right? You must be a pretty popular guy in those parties, too."

"Ah, not really." Yagi released a small huff. "Everybody just comes to see All Might."

"Yeah, so? Don't a lot of important and powerful people get to hang around with the number one hero of Japan? That must include you, too."

"I'm not powerful." Yagi looked down at his lap.

Enzō snorted. Even to his own ears, it sounded rude and full of contempt, but at this point he really didn't care.

"Right. Of course you're not, Yagi-san. I bet without your money, influence, or whatever membership you have in your pockets, your quirk is enough to stay above from the rest of us without having to hide who and what you are to the rest of the world."

The detective hated how he and his family were denied a lot of things, but more than anything, he hated having to trick and sneak his way into places because this felt no better than before. The moment he slipped off his stupid hat and sunglasses, people would see and they would force him out sooner than he could ask for a check.

A tense silence sat between the two men.

The longer time stretched on, the more irritated the detective felt with both himself the drama he unfolded on the other man. Appetite gone, Enzō wanted to get up and leave this place. He was pretty sure that Kuzan was going to know before he walked out of the men's restroom that something happened between them, and it was going to end with the detective getting his ear chewed out.

Taking a mental note to never accept any future outings with Yagi, Enzō pressed his hands to the wooden arms of his chair so he could slide out of the table.

"I don't have a quirk."

The detective paused from pushing his seat back, his eyes trained on the white table cloth that brushed against his pant legs. His eyes trailed upwards to the blond man, forcing himself to look at the bright blue orbs that radiated from the darkness they hid within.

 _What_?

"I'm actually quirkless." Yagi said.

He spoke in a voice so quiet and soft, the detective almost didn't catch it. It the was the kind of tone someone used when they were sharing something they didn't like admitting out loud, like it was a shameful secret they were afraid would reach the wrong ears.

Like they expected people to react as though there was something abnormally wrong with them.

 _"... get lost before I sock you so hard, you'll have an imprint of my_ fist _!"_

 _Enzō barely caught the last end and recognized that it was Kuzan angrily snapping at someone. Hurrying to reach the playground where Grete told him their son went to, he spotted Kuzan standing over another kid. The boy had his back planted to the dirt, and he was shielding his head and face for any attacks. Behind them, Izuku was sobbing uncontrollably._

 _"Kuzan!"_

 _Mitsuki's story about Kuzan almost violently attacking Katsuki at the grocery store was still fresh in his mind. He still remembered the blood, the nurses who hovered around Kuzan when they worked to remove the multiple glass shared embedded in his tiny hands. And how could he forget the gruesome stitches left behind, reddened and bruised and permanently scarred. As he got closer, he was relieved that the other boy wasn't covered in blood or bruises, it just meant that Kuzan knocked him off his feet._

 _His little boy didn't turn to him, too busy glaring down at the other child into submission._ _Enzō had to reach him and yank him backwards, putting space between the fallen child and his son who he kept a secure hold of while reaching for the still crying green-haired boy. He knelt down to address Izuku, the little one hiding his face while working to clear away the tears from his eyes and the mucus that dribbled down from his nose. The kid looked like a mess, his shirt wrinkled and dirty while there was a small tear on his shorts where the older man could see his bleeding knee._

 _"What happened, kiddo?"_

 _Izuku just_ _hiccuped, too lost in his woes to give a clear answer._ _Enzō's eyes then went to his son, the boy who continued to glower from his spot like an angry little dog. Before he could ask Kuzan his side of the story, the kid his boy threatened scrambled to his feet. Their face was flushed red with anger, and they yelled something the older man never forgot._

 _"MY DADDY WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOU TWO! BASTARDS AND QUIRKLESS PEOPLE SHOULD DIE!"_

 _Shocked,_ _Enzō almost lost his grip on the furious Kuzan that almost lunged forward to strike the other child for daring to spit such poisonous words._ _Frightened by Kuzan's violent swinging, the other boy turned tail and ran away with tears in his eyes, his retreating back disappearing in the distance. With the horrible boy gone, the father was left in the playground with an angry son and crying child. He ended up taking Izuku back home, large palms trying to sooth the trembling back of the green-haired boy who buried his face into his shoulder while Kuzan trailed after them like a silent guard._

 _After Midoriya Inko tucked Izuku away inside the safe haven of his bedroom, she told him._

 _Izuku was quirkless._

 _Once upon a time, somebody told nine-year-old Sengoku_ _Enzō that quirkless people were a sickness, and if you touched them, you'd lose your quirk and become one of the diseased. He avoided those people, looking at them like they were things and gossiping behind their backs with the rest of his classmates. But then he went to middle school and he learned biology, learned about why some people were born without quirks._

 _And with each new generation, he learned about how higher the rate of suicide grew amongst the quirkless population._

 _Even then, he hadn't really cared about it._

 _Until Izuku._

 _Izuku._

 _The boy who wanted to be a hero._

 _The kid who babbled on and on about his hero All Might, all the while waiting impatiently for the manifestation of his own quirk._

 _Who just found out that he couldn't have a quirk._

 _Who was told he couldn't be a hero._

 _Who was now being treated like a liability._

 _Who just heard someone tell him that he was better off_ dead _._

 _Enzō slumped against the wall of the apartment, trying to comprehend Inko's words. The people he avoided, the ones he treated like living plagues, the ones who suffered from his unsubtle whispers and pointed stares, he imagined them all having freckles and green hair._

 _Shame made him sink down on the floor. Cowardly shame brought him low before the mother of a quirkless child, imagining the many mothers who had to comfort their own children who came home in tears from all the awful things they endured because they were different from the rest of everyone else. Shame made his belly twist and turn, sickness boiling and slowly rising as he continued to recall every face he perceived as powerless and... less than human._

 _Shame for not standing by them, for not decking others who spewed horrible lies, for not staying by their bedsides like his own son was doing right now as he and Inko listened to the quiet murmurs beyond that door that made the sobs fade away to nothing._

Enzō stared at the other man. Actually stared at him because... it was all starting to make sense the longer he observed him. Yagi was always hunching over himself, trying to appear smaller than he actually was, and how his eyes meekly glanced around the area to avoid looking at him as if he wanted to avoid a potential backlash. The way he treated other people, always humble and polite despite the powerful position he was in as the secretary for All Might.

Yagi reminded him of Izuku.

The detective let out a heavy exhale, feeling all the tension roll out of him as he sunk further down into his seat. He felt tired, like he had been working a forty-two hours shift at the police department with little to no coffee breaks.

"Oh."

The blond said nothing.

Enzō sat there for awhile, eyes trained on the cold food on his plate.

"... No wonder he likes you so much."

Yagi peeked at the other from beneath his brow. The action so painfully familiar to Enzō, he could still recall the way Izuku shyly peeked upward, pleading with him to join Kuzan and Katsuki despite it being a quirk gym.

"I... You..." Enzō suddenly didn't know how to speak, and it took him awhile before he could find his voice. "You, uh, you just remind me of someone I once knew."

Yagi still said nothing. The other man could tell that the blond was confused about his remark, but at least the lean man wasn't trying to fold himself like an envelope, shutting himself away for something he had no control over (doesn't that sound familiar?).

"There's only a few of us left now, you know," the detective continued. "There used to be a lot of us, but... well, you know how life goes. It screws us over."

"It seems to like screwing you all especially."

A bitter and humorless laugh escaped Enzō. "Yes it does."

The detective glanced around the fancy restaurant, taking in the well dressed men and women, the waiters and waitresses who bowed and gracefully carried on with their catering, and the classical jazz music that filtered quietly throughout the entire wide room.

"You're a good father, Sengoku-san. He may not say it often, but your son thinks the world of you."

The other man settled his gaze back to the blond sitting across from him. Yagi was smiling, his grin small and crooked yet gentle and genuine (Izuku's were wider and a bit wobbly, and they made him all the more endearing). When the curtain was pulled back, exposing everything in its honest and truest form, Enzō could finally see what made Kuzan gravitate towards the lanky man with sunshine gold hair.

"You're a good friend, Yagi-san." Enzō smiled back.

Life was still hard for them, but time was no longer stagnant with its bleak skies and grim faces. Time was moving forward, and with it the change of something new and hopefully better. The two continued to talk, still awkward and out of place, not something people would label as friendship, but the potential to do more so there would be other chances kept them going. Once the motion got started, there was no stopping it.

* * *

 **. Extra .**

Kuzan finally returned from his long trip to the restrooms.

When he reached the table, he was pleasantly surprised to find both Enzō and Yagi at ease with one another. No longer wearing an air of suspense and tension over their heads, the two of them appeared as the perfect image of relaxed company. When Kuzan's father finally noticed his return, the detective raised a single eyebrow at his son and bluntly if the teen left any sort of nasty surprises for the custodians to find in the toilets. All the older man got in response was a disgusted look. Yagi made it worse when he openly wondered out loud if the plumbing got clogged up because of how long Kuzan had taken to do his business.

"I swear to God, you guys are so disgusting." Kuzan waspishly snapped at them, raising an arm to get the waitress' attention.

Enzō good humor and fun died when he realized his son was asking for the check.

The detective's head snapped forward, directed to the sound of clicking heels coming their way. The pretty waitress who served them was approaching, all the while carrying a small but ominous black leather booklet that undoubtedly carried the dreaded check. Did Kuzan really have enough money to pay for their meals? Was Enzō going to have to prepare his wallet, saving them all if Kuzan's depleted bank account wasn't enough?

"Kon-graddu-rei-shon, mistah."

"Huh?" Enzō stupidly replied, torn between what she said and her horrifically butchered English.

The waitress just smiled and opened the booklet to reveal what was inside.

 _ **Happy Father's Day!**_

 _ **Special coupons discount 70%**_

 _ **of all main course selections**_

Sitting beside the card, there was a coupon that looked as though it had been cut straight out of a magazine. Something the detective totally missed because he was too busy gawking, freaking out, and being emotionally irrational towards poor Yagi. And throughout the entire time he was experiencing so many issues, Kuzan just sat back and enjoyed the show because he was the only one who knew (besides Yagi) that he could manage the pay for their pricey meals.

Enzō looked up from the card to face his vicious and savage child.

Kuzan merely locked eyes with him and sipped his water through a straw. The straw created an obnoxious suction noise which caused a big enough disturbance around the restaurant to make people turn their heads and cast judgmental eyes their direction.


End file.
